//------------------------------//
// 59 - Station Platform 
// Story: An Extended Holiday 
// by Commander_Pensword 
//------------------------------//

Extended Holiday
Ch 59:  Station Platform
Act 8




Pensword had retired to one of the smaller meeting rooms in Canterlot Castle. Looking to the ticking clock on the mantelpiece of the great carved marble stone fireplace, he tapped an impatient hoof on the table as he waited for the others to arrive. He looked forward to returning to his other role as Commander of Equestrian Forces. Sighing, he returned to sorting through the many party invitations from the Solar nobility. True to form, they were trying to butter him up. Several of the invitations spoke of roasted fruit bat and bear pie as featured dishes in the course. Did they not remember who he was before he became High Duke? He wondered if some of this was to try and brush away past impressions or worse yet--. He shuddered, deliberately pushing his thoughts away from ... marriage ties. The thought of his little Moon River being part of those stuck up, good for nothing families made his blood boil.

Shawn entered the room with a steady rhythm of clicks following each other step, his trusty cane still in hand.

“Hello, Shawn,” Pensword said, not even bothering to look up as he perused yet another letter. He folded it up and placed it to his left, then looked up and frowned. “Is this what you had to deal with all the time while I got to grow up again?” he asked.

“You get used to it after a few years.” Shawn said as he took a seat next to his friend.

“... A few years.” Pensword rubbed a hoof over his forehead. “I don’t know how I am going to make it.” Then he chuckled. “Then again, Lunar Fang would drag me back if I died from all this anyways.”

Grif walked in at Shrial’s side, following her at a careful pace. “And so would I.” He smiled as the two of them approached the group.

“Good, all we need are Lunar Fang and Conor,” Pensword replied as he nodded to Grif. “I may need to hire some Bladefeathers for my next outing to some of the parties I am invited to, along with the Dream Clan.” He shook his head.

“Well then, I’ll have to assign my best people. It would be a terrible time for you to die after all, especially now.” Grif smiled to shrial expectantly.

“Let’s wait for Conor and Lunar Fang, dear. I want to be able to share it with everybody,” she said.

Lunar Fang entered the room and smiled. “Moon River is with the Dream Clan, playing with her cousins.” She smiled dreamily. “I forgot what it was like to have a clan to watch and help.”

“That is good to hear. Moon River needs to learn that she is as much a Thestral as a Pegasus, even if the other nobles try to tell her otherwise.” He smiled. “She is, as Earth would have said, ‘Blue Blooded’ now. She has a right to rule.” He frowned. “To think this is where my path led.” He rose and trotted up to his Life Mate, giving her a nuzzle. “A path I would happily trot again.” Lunar Fang giggled at the attention.

The doors swung open as Conor stood at the door, his casual jeans and polo clung nicely to his frame as most of the pudge had disappeared. A long belt clung to his waist, holding the loose and scrunched waistband to his frame. He beamed as he ran a hand through his full head of hair, pulling some behind his ears to expose that they were perfectly round. Everyone gawked at him and the band he now wore around his left bicep. The bump was gone, the fur non-existent, his nails normal. “Hey, everybody. Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to stop to ask for directions.” He chuckled nervously.

“Uh ... Conor?” Pensword began. “Did … what did you do? Shave?” He chuckled, “As for getting lost, good for you, asking directions.” Pensword frowned in confusion, his brows scrunching together. “Did the process reverse itself?”

“Um, yeah, sort of,” Conor said as he moved to sit down. “Not exactly on its own though. I uh, had a little help.”

Shawn squinted slightly as blue fire exited his eyes for all of two seconds before he sighed heavily, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “The path’s been taken, and now you’re bound here, just like we are.”

“Um, yeah, aren’t we all kind of stuck here till we find a way home?” Conor asked, confused.

“Bound by magic,” Shawn clarified. “If you leave it small and weak, it can be broken without problem, but the more you give it, the more it binds to you, and in a world without magic, it will die, and so will you.”

“Hold on, I thought you said it was because if your body fails it takes up the slack, so if a perfectly healthy human gets a strong field and is not killed, then gets it drained, would it not be that they live?” Pensword asked. “Besides, you think he would have been safe going back half unicorn half human? Would they have let him even walk the streets?”

“I don’t even want to imagine the lynch mobs.” Conor shuddered.

“I’m telling you this more as a warning. The field works with your body constantly, amplifying everything you do. And given that you have an internal field of Equestrian magic, the more you use it, the more the field works with it. If you don’t die by the lack of magic, you will suffer from severe weakness for a long time.”

“Basically, you're stuck here like the rest of us,” Grif said.

“So pretty much, it was a lose-lose situation.” Conor sighed. “Great.”

The silence hung heavily in the room. “Well,” Shrial said, finally breaking it. “I think now that everyone’s here, I can give the news, wouldn’t you say, Grif?” She asked mischievously.

“Yes, I think we could all use a mood brightener,” Grif said.

Shrial smiled. “We didn’t want to spoil Twilight’s fun,” She said. “But, Grif and I, we’re going to have cubs.” She beamed. Lunar fang was the first to react, flying to the gryphoness and hugging her in mid-air around the neck.

“You’re going to be in for the flight of your life, but I can say this. Nothing in the world compares to it.”

“I know.” Shrial smiled. “Mother’s not going to be too happy we didn’t tell her first, though.” She chuckled. “Hopefully she’ll understand.”

“Congratulations, Grif. And you too, Shrial.” Conor smiled from his seat, grateful the pressure had been taken off of him. “So what’re you planning on for names?”

“Well, we’ve heard from a very reliable source that it is, in fact, going to be twin girls,” Grif said. “So we were thinking one would be Athena and the other would be Gentle Wing, after shrials mother.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m guessing you guys are planning to decide which gets which after the birth?” Conor asked.

“Kinda difficult to name them beforehand,” Grif noted.

“Agreed,” Pensword added. “Still, congrats on the twins.” He shook his head. “Another fifty years and we should have ultrasounds, I think.” He looked to Lunar Fang. “I’ll explain later.”

“So, what’s this secret meeting all about?” Conor asked casually as he fiddled with his band.

Pensword looked to Grif. “Should I tell everypony, sorry, everyone here what we have to do?” He looked to Shawn. “Which gives you the chance to plan around us as well.” As he spoke, he put a crystal onto the table. As it settled, the color shifted from red to green. “It is safe to talk freely.”

“Some sort of portable silencing spell?” Conor asked as he looked at the crystal.

“Yes, you could say that,” Pensword responded. “That is all I can say, really. Classification reasons, you understand.”

“Sure, sure, I get it. So, I’ll ask again, what is this thing you guys have to do? And why is it that I’m always the last one to know about these sorts of things?” Conor asked.

“Because, in all honesty, Conor, this is a military operation and…” Grif looked a little uneasy about how to put this. “You’re not military.”

“Then why call me here in the first place?” Conor asked.

“Because,” Pensword started, “I do not want you to go rushing off and raising all kinds of Tartarus searching for us when we leave.” He took a breath. “Also, because you are our friend and friends of high levels in Equestria get to know things. IF--” Here he stared hard at the his friend. “--They can deflect what they know when asked by others. Meaning what you are to hear, you did not hear.” 

Conor nodded gravely. Satisfied, Pensword turned to Grif. “Please, begin with the situation of what we found, and explain why we have to make this journey.”

“We found a rather… bad loophole in the original treaty between Equestria and Gryphonia,” Grif said.

“One that could spell a repeat of history.” Pensword spoke slowly, trying to keep his emotions in check. “That means that from here, we will be traveling with the Crystal Empire to Gryphonia’s Imperial city. There, we will work to close the loopholes before any Gryphons learn of them.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Conor said, nodding. “I take it you plan to be nothing more than an escort, at least on paper. And with Grif’s knowledge, you should be able to make it through no problem.”

“Well then, the plot thickens,” Grif said. “The prince of The Crystal Empire, Bellacosa, has decided he is to visit Gryphelheim on a goodwill mission to the emperor and he wants us to protect them.”



“So we’re here basically to discuss the details behind the adventure and what Shawn and I will do in the meantime while you’re gone?” Conor asked.

“We’ll be sitting on the sidelines here, in Equestria,” Shawn replied.

“And you can help me with my training, right, Shawn? I’ve been dying to get a hold of some bows and arrows,” Conor said.

Shawn gave a small grin as he reached into his coat and pulled out his flintlock pistol. “Remind me to make you one of these. Only three in existence so far, soon to be four.”

Conor smiled. “Will do. If there’s one thing I enjoy, it’s sharp shooting.”

“Good, you will need it,” Pensword responded with a laugh. “If for no other reason, because it will be something to do. There is no internet, so you’ll learn to fill the time up in other ways.”

“Which is why I smith things all the time,” Shawn added.

“Gives you a new appreciation for the dark age people, huh?” Grif laughed. Drawing a knife, he flicked it into the air, catching it by the handle as it came down with no real wariness for the razor sharp edges. “Back home, I’d never be coordinated enough to do this.”

“Well, I’ve been without internet for two years (barring emails home and facebook for proselyting), I suppose I can survive without it for a while longer.” Conor smirked.

“Try twenty years.” Grif laughed. “Or forty in his case,” he said, gesturing to Shawn.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to have a talk about that some time in the future. There’s a lot I still need to learn. Speaking of, who’s going to keep up my lessons while you’re gone, Pensword? Will it be Twilight?” Conor asked.

“Good, you used that grey matter.” Pensword responded happily. Then his tone of voice grew serious. “Now she is going to test you on the knowledge, but her main focus is going to be reading and speaking.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just deliberately insulted me,” Conor said, his cheerfulness dropping. If he’d still had his horse-like ears, they would have flattened.

Pensword paused and flicked an ear. “Right, not everyone is a Gryphon Slayer” he muttered, moving to flap his wings and looked Conor in the eye. He sighed as he laid a hoof on the human’s shoulder. “I spend a lot of time in the military. That was a ribbing, a good natured, honest joke. But I can understand that, at least I think I can.” He folded his forelegs as he hovered in the air. “Well, can you handle the ribbing I might give you by accident? Or a little on purpose?”

“It’s an unfortunate habit of war,” Grif added. “Small insults are more like compliments between old soldiers.”

“Well, as long as I know it’s a joke and not serious, I’ll be fine.” Conor immediately perked back up again.

“Softie,” Shrial muttered, smirking as she did so. “But then again, they’re cute when they’re soft.”

“Says the gryphoness who fell for a psychopath.” Grif chuckled.

“On another note, I won’t be returning to New Unity right away,” Shawn told the group.

“Explain,” Grif said.

“Due to recent events, I’ve been meaning to spend some time with Celestia and Luna.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with what they did with me, does it?” Conor asked, concern written on his face.

“No,” Shawn replied. “Another reason entirely.”

“Is it a reason you would like to share with us?” Pensword asked as he looked at Grif. “Wait, this means we get New Unity to ourselves when we head back for resupplies.” A mischievous grin came over his muzzle, only be smacked off by Lunar Fang’s left wing. “It was nothing too dangerous. I only wanted to see where the Flag Plaza would be on the construction list.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet the flag plaza was the only thing on your mind.” She laughed.

“Well,” Pensword grinned. “The Gryphon Slayers need to do something while we are away. I was just thinking to see how they would like to help build it.” He raised both wings. “Honest!”

“When there’s so much work to do rebuilding the castle?” Conor asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“You want a bunch of soldiers to try and prop up a wall? The Plaza is really not attached to anything at the moment. It would keep them busy, out of the manes of others, and it hopefully would keep any risks for a brawl down.” He shot back with a good natured smile. “We could even move the plaza as well, if needed.”

“Whatever works,” Shawn shrugged.

“Just leave the remaining gryphons to their work. The compound still needs to be finished,” Grif said.

“Awww, you guys are no fun,” Conor said, pouting a little in a joking manner. He held it for all of a second before breaking into a smile and chuckling. “And here I was, hoping I’d get some help ribbing a friend back.”

“Honestly, I don’t rib Pensword about the flags. I was there when he claimed a few of them.”

“And I rarely use humor,” Shawn replied.

“... Good point.” Conor frowned. “That was pretty insensitive of me. Sorry, Pensword,” he said.

“You are new, and still learning,” Pensword responded. “That might actually be a good history lesson on why these flags are so important.”

“I’m going to need to see Zecora,” Grif said. “I need an extra edge to my throwing knives.”

“Going to ask her to enchant them for you?” Conor asked.

“Posion,” Grif said. “I need to be absolutely sure I won’t have any nasty surprises from a minorly wounded enemy.”

“I hope you’ll only poison one set, not all of them. I know in Gryphonia you fight to kill, but still, you can’t kill all of them,” Conor said.

Grif sighed. “Ah, to be young and naive again, huh?” Grif asked pensword.

Pensword chuckled softly and nodded his head. “May he never have it shattered in his face,” Pensword replied, his mouth twitching.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be the butt of many a joke in the future?” Conor asked, rolling his eyes in resignation. “Can I at least visit Zecora with you? She’s one of my favorite Zebras.”

“Sure,” Grif said. “Just be ready, her wisdom can be a headtrip.”

Conor smiled knowingly. “I think I can handle it. I’m just wondering whether to go as a human, or as a pony.”

“Human,” Pensword answered without a beat or hesitation. A moment later Pensword shot back into the air. “Wait, what?”

Grif’s lower beak dropped as he stood there, dumbstruck.

“Conor looked on,  confused. “What? You guys have your forms. I figured you’d know I had my own, too.” He shrugged.

“I figured Luna and Celestia just found some ward spell or something,” Grif said.

“Well, I just thought they purged you of whatever it was affecting you and, well, you got better.” Pensword said. For an instant, the old Matthew shone through, showing a small spark of the old optimism he’d had before the Third Gryphon War.

“I did mention he has an internal magical field,” Shawn said.

Conor sighed. “Alright, so pretty much, what happened is the thaumic field protected you guys from Equestria. It doesn’t like alien species. I was pulled in by Discord, and as such, didn’t have a thaumic field. Once Discord’s magic faded, Equestria’s magic started to change me into a pony. After the fight with Shawn, I got the field and the changes stopped in the middle. So, instead of a disguise spell, Luna and Celestia gave me one that would allow me to shift between forms like you do because I technically had a little of both forms as a part of me by that point.” Conor smiled slyly. “You wanna see my pony form?” he asked.

“Why not?” Pensword shrugged his wings. “It would be nice to see this.”

“Go ahead,” Grif said.

“Meh,” Shawn said, shrugging.

“I haven’t seen anyone change except for Grif. Sounds exciting,” Shrial said, propping her beak up on her hands as her tail twitched.

“Alright.” Conor reached up with an arm and grabbed the diamond. He took a deep breath then twisted as a bright flash of white light filled the room. As it dimmed, a pony form took shape. The clear shadow of a horn jutted as the light dimmed. There, standing where Conor had, a white unicorn stood with a long, styled blonde mane. His eyes were closed and he wore a white suit with a pair of four-pointed stars crossing one another, the one gold, the other silver. A blue bowtie was tied snugly around his muscular frame, which hugged at all the right curves of the suit. He peeked open a deep blue eye. “Well--”

He didn’t have time to get any further. Grif was on the unicorn in a second, lifting him up by the scruff of the neck. “Now, I admit, I’ve never thought a lot of you, Blueblood, but this is a new level of sick. Where is Conor?” He spat through his teeth with every word.

Pensword flexed his wings, trying to think, only to sit down on his rear and start laughing his head off. Lunar Fang looked at her Life Mate with a worried look. Had he finally lost his head?

“What did you just call me?” The unicorn’s horn suddenly flared blue as he narrowed his eyes. The gryphon soon found his hand forcibly released before he slammed into a wall. The unicorn’s eyes widened after he turned and his horn flickered out as he brought his hooves to his muzzle in shock. Shrial was out of her chair in an instant and leapt for the unicorn with a piercing shriek.

Pensword’s laughter instantly died as he saw the murder in the gryphoness’ eyes. He took a deep breath and bellowed as loudly as he could. “STAND DOWN! THIS IS CONOR! STAND DOWN NOW!” Shrial was blown back, her talons screeching against the stone as she touched down. She crouched, preparing for another leap.

“Taze, help!” the unicorn shouted, recoiling as Shrial leaped once again. This time, a blue bubble formed around him as the gryphoness collided, going at it with her sword before it burst under her assault.

Pensword leaped into action, flying to where the pony lay. He then turned and stood between the Unicorn and the others, his eyes menacing.

“Shrial.” Grif coughed as he stood up. In a moment, he was between her and the two ponies. “It’s okay!” he said, clinging to her and pinning her arms in a bear hug. “It’s alright. I’m fine.” When Shrial had calmed down enough, she wept on his shoulders. Grif looked to the unicorn he now knew as Conor. “Sorry, Omni.”

Conor frowned. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just sort of happened before I could do anything about it. Are you alright? Why did you call me Blueblood?”

“You don’t know?” Grif asked. “You didn’t take a look at yourself like this?”

“There wasn’t a mirror at Luna’s forge, and Celestia asked me not to change until we were all alone together. Luna agreed and ... wait a second.” Conor face-hoofed. “Now it makes sense.” He rolled his eyes. “Could somebody please get me a mirror?”

“Well, first of all, it would be Somepony in this form. Secondly--” he moved to what appeared to be a bathroom doorway and opened it. On the back of the door, visible to all, was a large mirror, the same dimensions as the frame. “Why do you think I picked this room? It is perfect for my needs.”

Conor stared at the mirror. “Oh heck no,” he said, gawking at the sight. “I’m a freaking shadow clone!” He furrowed his brows in thought. “… On second thought, Shawn, let’s visit Celestia together. I’m going to get an apology. Just wait till I get my hooves on them,” he said ominously.

“Oh no, this is going to be an ace in the hole. With you, my friend, we shall get to learn just what the Baron has planned.” Pensword’s ears perked up as he realized what his friend had just said and he smiled. “Oh, Good, you used ‘hooves.’”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but … Rarity’s giving you a makeover,” Grif said.

“Got to clarify that with her,” Shawn said. “Considering how she feels about Blueblood.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not get banged up a second time,” Conor said, tenderly rubbing his neck. “And uh, Pensword, I’m sorry, but I’m no spy. You know how I feel about lying,” he said.

Pensword’s left eye twitched. “Conor, this is not some goody-four-shoes fiction. We are in the upper echelons of power. We will have to have spies, and Blueblood is, at the moment, a problem that I do not want flaming up.”

“Pensword, my voice is totally different from Blueblood’s. Speaking of which, Taze, why didn’t you realize that when I changed?” Conor asked.

“Because a pony’s voice is easily altered. We have magic, or even potions that will change your voice to match others. Magic is a tool that espionage is great at using.”

Conor turned resolutely. “I’m sorry, Pensword, but I’m not going to do that. I won’t be a spy, at least not by impersonating … somepony else. It’s not right.”

Pensword’s eye twitched again before he snorted and pawed the ground a little. “Fine, but we shall wait and see. I guess I could go to Me-Me.” He shook his head. “Just be careful around the nobility. And one more thing, if you get information just hoofed to you, do not reject it,” he pleaded.

Conor sighed. “Fine. That much, at least, I can do with a clean conscience.” He tapped a hoof under his chin. “I just realized, I haven’t picked a name yet. Gonna have to think on that.”

Lunar Fang giggled behind her wing. “Well, what’s your Cutie Mark?”

“I … actually don’t know,” Conor said. “Should I take off my clothes and find out?”

“Of course,” Lunar Fang stated matter of factly.

Conor blushed. “Um … I’ll be right back.” He zipped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him with a loud slam, its frame surrounded by a blue aura. 

Pensword looked to Lunar Fang and the others. “Uh, did we ever get like that?” He asked, cocking his head.

“Dark magic modified our behavior before we got the chance,” Grif reminded him.

“Oh,” Pensword answered before smirking. “Well, Sombra really dropped the ball with us it seems.” Pensword giggled, his ears perking a little. Lunar Fang just giggled behind her wing.

Several crashes and angry exclamations later, Conor peeked nervously out the door. “This is incredibly awkward,” he said.

“You’ll get used to it,” Shawn replied.

“... You  promise not to laugh?” he asked.

“I promise to attempt to mask any laughter. Can’t guarantee on the success rate though,” Grif said.

Pensword looked down at his own form, which was just fur and feathers. “Well, I would be hypocritical if I laughed at the moment.”

Taking a deep breath, the pony pushed the door open the rest of the way and slowly clopped his way out. On closer inspection, he was actually a little larger than Blueblood, and, were other ladies present, possibly more handsome as he stood blushing before the gathering of friends. Turning his neck to his side, he jumped, then chuckled. “Sorry, not used to being able to move around like this. Ponies are surprisingly flexible, aren’t they?” He asked as he turned to show his new mark to the others. An archaic sun shone brightly, a mixture of yellow and orange with little triangles jutting out at even intervals. Stamped over the sun, A silvery four-pointed star glimmered, accenting the rest of the mark as its points reached out to accent the other triangles, forming a total of sixteen points jutting out at even intervals.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“Well, that is interesting. We have another Solar Cutie Mark,” Pensword replied with a laugh as he leaned forward to get a closer look. “I am trying to come up with a good name.” He frowned. “Still haven’t found out how naming works.”

“If only there were a pony whose special talent was picking names to fit a person,” Conor said, sighing.

“Well, the problem here is that those that do name ponies, it’s usually the parent and, I have heard that sometimes the pony will keep writing the name out till they reach the right one.”

“Well why don’t we just ask someone?” Grif said.

“Got anyone in mind?” Conor asked.

“Well, we could talk to Celestia and Luna,” Pensword started. “Then if that pans out, you said you were going to go with us to meet Zecora, so that is another pony we could ask.” He said, rubbing a hoof under his chin. “Well,” he looked at a clock. “I am sorry, but I have to attend a small gathering of the Lunar Court soon, so I have to drop out of this meeting.”

“I … think I’ll go get dressed now.” Conor rushed into the bathroom again, tripping over his hooves as he did so. He went flying through the door as it slammed shut behind him. “... Oww,” his voice echoed from within.





Hammer Strike found himself walking towards Luna’s room. One thing that he had finished recently needed to be brought to her attention. After a few turns he found her door with two lunar guards posted outside.

“Is Luna in there?” he questioned as he approached.

The guards nodded, separating their lances as they allowed Hammer Strike to pass.

“Thanks,” he replied as he knocked on her door.

“Yes? Who is striking so vigorously at my door?” Luna asked, rushing to open it. As the door creaked open, she immediately recognized the pony. “Oh, it’s you. Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” Hammer replied as he entered. The room was mostly dark. Immediately to his left, he noticed a large, crescent scaped bed complete with a star studded curtain. A dim night light glowed as it hung from the “moon’s” tip. The floor echoed as his hooves clopped along it, made from black marble with lighter shaded swirls. A multitude of candelabras stood in place, burning their wicks to give the gentle ambience of moonlight and evening. Dark, low-toned colors decorated the walls, while thick, heavy red curtains hung down over the windows, blocking out the light. Tiny moonstones cut in the shape of gems were mounted above the arches of the windows and doors. 

Clearly, the entire room was meant to be as much a replica of the night sky as possible. Four dark blue slippers with silver crescents waited for their owner on a carpet themed after a cloud. A nightstand with a moon themed alarm clock and a stack of books lay beside the bed:  most likely reading material for Luna to catch up after her thousand year absence while she waited for sleep to come. The ceiling was dotted with tiny rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and many more, which glinted in the dim light like stars. A massive waxing crescent moon carved itself overhead on the ceiling to bask in the glow of the “stars” that twinkled around it. Four new diamonds, far larger than the other stars, had been mounted in place above, below, to the right, and left of the moon.

After taking everything in, Hammer Strike faced Luna. “So, on to business. I finished something that you might be glad to have.”

“Oh?” luna asked.

“Going to need you to teleport us to the New Unity armory.”

“You have a picture in your head?” she asked him.

Hammer Strike hummed in approval.

Luna concentrated as her magic fired around her horn. Leaning down, she gently placed the tip of said horn against Hammer Strike’s forehead. The two vanished in a silver flash.

With a pop, the pair appeared inside the armory Hammer Strike had pictured. The walls were lined with weapon racks, each containing different styles of weaponry ranging from swords to polearms.

“So, a long time ago, or not that long ago, I honestly don’t even remember how long ago, you asked me to do something for you,” Hammer Strike started. “I’ve been working most of the time on this task. Do you remember what it was that you asked for?”

“The armor?” Luna asked. “It’s ready?”

“Follow me into the back room,” he said as he gestured to one of the doors before he opened it, letting her pass before him. After a brief moment, he lit a set of candles, revealing row after row of armor made from his designs. “I spent a while doing this, considering no one else could mimic the design for several parts that were needed for some of them.”

Each set had a helmet specially crafted to cover more of the face. The primary piece was the guard for the ears, each one following a pattern to ensure the one wearing the armor had no restrictions to movement while still having protection. The chestplate stretched out further than the normal standard set, covering more of the barrel while the hoof guard stretched up, covering more of the leg. Where metal could not reach, chainmail covered the gaps between. Each flank on the armor had the mark of the lunar guard on each side, as well as a crescent moon engraving on the breastplate.

“It’s incredible,” Luna said. “And you were able to make as many as I needed?” she asked.

“You told me a set of two hundred, so I made two hundred, though I also changed the design a little from back then. Nothing too major though. The weight of the armor isn’t that much more than the current design because of moving around wasted metal.”

“The nightguard will truly be an example garbed in these,” Luna said.

“They better be,” he replied. “At least your guard is going to actually be defended, rather than wearing shiny gear that can hardly protect them.”

“Perhaps Celestia will take from my example and get real armor for her guard….And actual combat training,” she added with a snicker.

“If she does, I hope it’s made by someone smart enough to make a decent set. Either that, or I’m going to be busy for another several months,” he said, sighing afterwards.

“Is there anything you need in repayment?” she asked.

“My usual payment, which is, just make sure they use it right,” he replied.

“I will make arrangements to have them shipped to Ys immediately.”

“So, back to Canterlot then?” Hammer Strike asked.

She nodded and they vanished in a blast of silvery light.





“Hey, Joe,” Grif said as he, Conor and Shrial walked into the donut shop. “How’s business been lately?”

“Can’t complain.” He shrugged. “Princess Twilight’s coronation brought in a lot of business. The way things are going, I may have to think about opening a few branches.” He smiled knowingly at Grif. “The usual, I take it?”

“Better make that a triple order.” Grif smirked as he put a wing around shrial. “And whatever Conor here wants is on me as well.”

The human blushed and Pony Joe chuckled. “What’sa matter, kid? I ain’t gonna bite ya.”

“Sorry. I’m uh … just not used to being treated so much,” Conor said. “Got any recommendations?”

“Well, we have trottown cream, chocolate, glazed, crumb, and just about anything else you can name,” Joe said.

“I’ll try a trottown cream, a glazed, a crumb, a bear claw, and a pershing, please. And could I try some of your hot cocoa with marshmallows, too?”

“No problem, kid. Three usuals and five donuts coming right up.” He moved behind the desk, throwing several crullers, half a dozen sour cream, and three fudge busters on a dish before pouring two large cups of coffee. He then put Conor’s order next to it. Picking up the tray in his magic, he levitated it to Grif’s usual table just as they arrived. He left the carafe on the table with the tray before heading back behind the counter.

“Thanks, Joe,” Grif said waving as he took a sour cream and bit down. “The only place in Equestria that reminds me of Canada.” He laughed.

“Oh, and um … Shrial, Grif, about what happened back in the conference room. I really am sorry,” Conor said, his head bowed low. “I didn’t even know what I was doing. It just sort of happened.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Grif said. “I reacted without thinking.”

“I’m just sorry I lost my head,” Shrial said. “A warrior should never allow something like that to happen. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, Grif got to you before that could happen. Speaking of which, how the heck did you move that fast anyways?” Conor asked as he turned his head to face Grif.

“You remember when Hammer Strike and Shrial went into that tomb in the story?” Grif asked as he drew one of his swords.

“Yeah, though you didn’t mention much about it,” Conor replied as he took a bite into the glazed donut first. His eyes immediately widened. “This is better than Krispy Kremes,” he exclaimed.

“That would be because I was in a coma,” Grif said. “I wasn’t there, but that's neither here nor there.” He shrugged as he laid the sword in front of the human. “These blades were some of the treasures found there. They’re over two thousand years old and were wielded by a gryphon named Grask Grimclaw. He was a gryphon born in what is now Western Equestria, but was formerly one of the gryphon kingdoms, during a time known as the tyranny of dragons.”

“Alright, so what’s his story and what’s it have to do with your speed?” Conor asked as he finished off the first donut, washing it down with the hot chocolate.

“I guess I should explain something. Did you get a chance to read anything on gryphon religion?” he asked.

“Not really, no. Pensword was too busy teaching me about Equestrian culture and language. We haven’t been able to branch out yet,” Conor replied.

“Gryphon history teaches that, while our race was created by Faust and blessed by Sleipnir with our uncanny ability for war, we were soon abandoned for another race. The legends are, at least to my suspicions, purposefully vague on why. Either we were too brutal or too caught up in our own greatness, as said gryphons were alone,” Grif explained. “And then they came. First the north, then the south, then the west, then the east, and the mixture of all these directions likewise:  great beings with power to rival Faust’s own. They gave life to the air and commanded it to move. They herded gryphonkind beneath their wings and blessed us with a hope after death and longevity to rival that of the dragons themselves. Now, I could go on, but I’m going to summarize by saying they were stolen from us and sealed away beyond our reach. You following me?”

“I got it, yeah,” Conor said as he began on the pershing next, savoring its cinnamon glaze.

“Grask Grimclaw was the first gryphon to use magic:  specifically wind magic. Not breezes like the pegasi create. That’s simple weather manipulation. I’m talking about legitimate control over the wind itself. He found the four great ones, learned their secrets, and became what gryphons label ‘the avatar of winds.’” Grif smiled as he held up the blades “These were his swords. I bear them just as I bear that title.”

“So you’re basically saying the Pegasi have nothing on you?” Conor asked, smirking as he cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, they don’t, but that's for other reasons.” Grif laughed. “On our honeymoon, Shrial and I encountered the first of the four great ones:  The Lady of the South Winds, the bird of paradise herself. She taught me a few things:  cantrips mostly, small tricks that require only little bits of concentration. Creating wind tunnels was one of them,” he explained as he took a sip of coffee. “Imagine being inside a tube with gale force winds that make hurricane katrina look like a brisk spring breeze. Normally, it would be fatal to anyone else, but as I grow in knowledge, I may be able to start taking people with me and going farther, even faster.”

“So you created a wind tunnel for all of a second to get yourself to us in time.” Conor furrowed his brows. “That’s a heck of a lot of power.”

“It’s not something I can do for repeated times without causing my body incredible amounts of pain,” Grif said. “The fight with Shawn was torture.”

“And you kept doing it?” Conor gawked. “I mean, I guess you had no choice, but still.” He frowned. “I wish there could’ve been another way. I don’t like when my friends are in pain.”

“Well, be glad that’s the only fight you saw us in.” Grif lifted a wing, revealing a faint scar under the fur beneath. “Trust me, an entire sword blade to the torso is not pleasant.”

Conor shuddered. “I can guess. I actually had a dream like that once. It was a knife instead of a sword, but I’m guessing it’s kindof the same principle. Sort of cold, flat, and you can feel it wriggling around as it slides through, right?”

“Yes, but it also burns like fire,” Grif said. “I’m still surprised I didn’t die myself. How resilient are we? How resilient am I? Questions for later.” Grif shook his head.

“I’d say you’re pretty resilient,” Shrial said, smirking as she caressed Grif’s beak with a talon. “After all, on our honeymoon, we made it through a typhoon without so much as breaking a sweat. You remember, don’t you, dear?”

Conor blushed furiously.

“Honey, if we were in front of practically anyone else, I wouldn’t care, but perhaps we should scale it down a bit?” Grif asked, rubbing her back gently.

Shrial looked at the human. His body language was painfully obvious. “He’s led a very sheltered life, hasn’t he?” She asked.

“You have no idea,” Conor said.

Shrial sighed. “Alright, alright. I’ll spare your virgin ears.” She immediately stuffed a chocolate donut into her mouth, chewing violently as she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor of chocolate. Even in Equestria, it would seem women have a love of chocolate. Conor and Grif took advantage of the moment to share a knowing look.

“... I’m scared,” Conor mouthed.

“... Me, too,” Grif mouthed back.





“Rarity?” Hammer Strike asked as he knocked against the door.

“Yes?” she questioned through the door, her voice giving away that she was concentrating on something inside.

“Mind if I come in to talk, rather than through a door?”

“Of course,” she said. He heard something thump and the unicorn cursed under her breath.

Hammer Strike opened the door to see a candle cut in half, the top part on the floor in front of Rarity. The melted wax scattered out from the point of impact. In Rarity’s magic, her rapier stood at the ready, flashing in the sun. “Attempting something I take it?” he asked.

“Grif’s been emphasizing on control of the blade,” Rarity said. “He once was able to cut the wick off the candle without snuffing the flame.” She looked at him, her gaze one of determination. “I don’t see how he managed to control the tip of the blade so easily.”

“Years of practice,” Hammer replied. “It takes a lot of time and training for fine control.”

“I can fold gold and steel into cloth and meld diamonds into fabric. I should at least be able to do this with my magic.”

“You’ll eventually do it,” he repeated. “Just be patient.”

“... Yes, all things in time, I suppose.” Rarity sighed. Retrieving a cloth and a jar of polish, she began to work on the blade. “So how may I be of service, Lord Hammer Strike?” she asked.

Hammer Strike gave her a look. “I was wondering if you will be returning to Ponyville with your friends.”

“I suppose I’ll have to be returning to Ponyville eventually,” She paused and looked up. “Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering because I’ll be here for another week or so. I was just wanting to know if you’d like to go out to dinner? Perhaps a night around the town?”

Rarity sat rigidly in her chair, stiff as a board. “I uh, well, that is … you see.” She blushed heavily. “I believe I should have enough time,” she said. “After all, it has been a while since our last outing.” Her rapier had cut through her cloth as she looked down on the tattered pieces. “Oh, pony feathers,” she muttered under her breath. With a glow of the horn, she had needle and thread already at work as she started to sew it back up again.

Hammer Strike sat there with a small grin, waiting patiently for her answer.

“I … I would be honored,” she finally said.

“Perhaps tomorrow, if that sounds fine to you?”

“Tomorrow would be divine, darling,” Rarity responded, blushing.

“Wonderful, I’ll stop by around four.” He gave one of the rarest gifts he could ever bestow:  a smile. “Until then, I’ll leave you to your practice.” With that said, he turned to the door, exiting her room.

To Rarity’s credit, she held her composure for a whole seven deep breaths before letting out a squeal that made several thestrals in the area hold their ears in pain before she grasped her couch and swooned.

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but chuckle as he continued walking towards his room.





Pensword looked up from his desk as his ears folded. “That is definitely not a steam whistle,” He muttered. With teeth on edge, he turned back to his paperwork. He frowned to himself, wondering if he would get to see Luna’s bill in the coming days or not. He sighed as he looked to the clock. Queen Cadence should have arrived five minute ago to hand over Bellacoso, and word around the well was Luna wanted to see him too. Three loud knocks on his door heralded the arrival of guests. A thestral guard opened the door and cleared his throat.

“Announcing her Royal Highness, Queen Miamore Cadenza--”

“Please, just Cadence is fine. After all, we’re all family here, aren’t we Pensword?” Queen Cadence asked as she walked in. Cosy trailed behind her legs before dashing for the desk and leaping into the air.

“Pensword!” he cried happily as his momentum took its course.

Pensword took to the air and landed in Cosy’s path as the two hugged. “How is my little guardian?” He looked behind him and let out a shaky breath. A large window stood open behind him, its wind blowing through his mane as he put the young colt down.

“I’m doing great!” Cosy giggled, his silver mane sparkling behind him as his crystal coat shone in the sun.

“That is great news.” Pensword looked at both royals. “How goes the preparations for the journey?”

“We got my armor all ready to go. And I’ve been practicing with the sword, too.” 

Cadence winced at the mention of the weapon.

“Yes, he’s been practicing quite a bit. As for the other preparations, Cosey has all his things packed, and we ordered the ten guards as requested. The magic of the crystal heart should wear off after a few days, but if they still have their coats, they know to keep their cloaks on. And I’ve given my little brother strict instructions to stay with his guards,” she said meaningfully. Cosy rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know,” he said. “You told me a hundred times already.”

“Easy, Cosy,” Pensword said,holding a wing. “She only cares for you. I do not blame her. She almost lost you in the past. So, please, listen to your sister. Or I might have to add my voice to her instructions as well.”

Cosy frowned. “Alright.”

“Good.” Pensword responded with a firm nod of his head before he hugged Cosy again. “And how has getting used to modern Equestria been going?”

“It’s great! We’ve been getting a lot of ponies coming to the empire and I got lots of friends to play with in the palace.” Cosy beamed. “Nopony even cares that I’m old.”

Pensword paused and smirked a little. “Do you feel old? Because you don’t look a day over eight.” He looked at his own hoof. “You look better than I do, I think.”

Cosey giggled. “I mean ‘cause I was in stone for so long.”

Pensword frowned as he recalled the final battle back in the Crystal Empire. “That was a war I am grateful that went the right direction.”

“Let’s try to focus on better times, Pensword,” Cadence said, smiling warmly on him.

“Agreed. And how are you and Shining Armor settling in as rulers of the Crystal Empire?” Pensword asked

“Everyone loves us. Shining’s been helping our soldiers adjust to modern tactics and fighting techniques. And as for me, well, you know how busy life can be as a leader.”

“I know,” Pensword responded as he moved back to his desk. “That was back when I was a Commander. Now I am a High Duke! I thought I had enough paperwork as a Commander back then. No wonder Nobles had parchment plant gardens on their lands. They needed it just for getting things done.”

Cadence chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

He smiled and looked to Cosy and back to the work. “I sure hope so.” He chuckled a little. “Well, Cosy you get to meet someone new soon. I am a father now.”

Cosy’s eyes widened. “Really? Is it a boy or a girl? What’s the baby like? Is it like you?” The questions continued to spurt one after the other until Pensword gently placed a quieting hoof over the young foal’s mouth.

“Okay, first, it is a girl, and her name is Moon River. She is currently a very curious foal who is learning to fly, and constantly getting into things. As for like me? Well, her curiosity is a little like I was when I was younger, but it is still too soon to tell.”

“Can I meet her?” Cosy asked. “She sounds like fun.”

“Well, of course you can, maybe not tonight, as you need your sleep, but tomorrow is okay, and you get a whole train ride to have her get used to you,” Pensword answered.

“Awwww, I don’t wanna go to bed yet,” Cosy said. Cadence chuckled.

“Even a crown prince needs his nap time. How else are you going to keep up with the others when you’re on your way to Gryphonia?” she asked.

Pensword chuckled and looked to Cosy. “I envy you,” he started, earning a confused look from Cosy. “You get to go to bed early. I still have at least two hours of work here to go.”

“Yuck!” Cosy said, pointing his hoof down his throat. “I guess bedtime isn’t so bad compared to that.” He yawned. “And I am kinda tired. Just a little.”

“Then let’s get you tucked into bed. We can say goodnight and then goodbye in the morning. I’m sure Pensword will have plenty of time to play with you then,” Cadence said.

“Okay,” Cosy yawned. “Night, Pensword.” And with that, Cadence took the foal under her hoof as the pair made their way out of the office.

“Until tomorrow, Pensword. You have my thanks.” Cadence nodded her head as they made to leave, crystal guards in tow.

“Of course, Katy,” Pensword responded before his frame locked up. “I, sorry, I shouldn’t be calling you that. Good night, your majesty.”

Cadence stopped in the doorway, her guards waiting on either side for her to pass. “Pensword, you can call me Katy any time.” Then she left, her guards in tow.





Shawn slowly led Conor through the more private halls of Canterlot Castle. Their custom made boots clopped along the cold stone floor as Conor eyed the various artifacts and tapestries on display. “Wow, even the less used halls are decorated. Where does Celestia get all this stuff?” Conor asked.

“From all around. Helps that she’s been able to collect them through countless years,” Shawn replied, shrugging.

“Good point. So how much farther do we have to go till we get to the dining hall?” Conor asked as his stomach rumbled in complaint. He chuckled nervously. “Sorry, after getting back to this my body’s been eating up calories a lot faster than normal. You think the thaumic field might have something to do with it?”

“Might be just your metabolism considering what you’ve been having combined with the whole working out deal.”

“I guess. Heh, now I see why my friends said having a fast metabolism is such a double edged sword.”

“Highly accurate in most cases,” Shawn said as he turned down another hall, this one ending in a door. “And, we’re here.”

Conor took a good whiff of the air. “Mmm, I smell sausage. And bacon. And … oohoho, fresh bread. This is gonna be good.” He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. “After you, sir,” he said with a playful bow.

“I’ll accept this one as a joke, but don’t make a habit of it.”

“What? I do this with my friends all the time.” Conor chuckled.

“And I hear that all the time because of being a Lord,” Shawn replied as he entered the dining hall.

“Fine, fine, I’ll try not to do it anymore. But I make no promises,” Conor said as the pair entered into the great dining hall. Shawn recognized it only too well from their first stay as the faint memories of their arrival played over in his mind.

Princess Celestia sat contentedly as she levitated a forked piece of pancake into her mouth. As the two humans entered, she immediately perked up with a warm smile. “Ah, Shawn. Welcome, welcome. Come join us,” She chuckled as one of her waitstaff entered the room. “Would you like anything to drink? The Coffee is still brewing.” She turned to look at her sister.

“Aha! Welcome, teacher, and friend Conor. Come and enjoy this bountiful feast!” Luna called as she held a large wooden tankard in the air with her magic. Her plate was loaded down with eggs, waffles, ham, sausage, bacon, crepes, and toast. “I still cannot believe it took so long for me to discover this bacon. Tell me, do all omnivores know of this divine food?” she asked.

“Yes, back home it’s pretty common. If you’d like, one of these days, we can show you a few dishes you can make with it. One of my favorites is the breakfast burrito,” Conor said.

“Breakfast Burrito?” Celestia asked in confusion. “What is a Burrito?” Then she smiled as the scent of roasted beans came to her nostrils. “Good, the Coffee’s coming.” She waved a wing to the seating. “I’ll ask again. What would you like to drink? Coffee? Orange Juice? Milk? Or maybe something else?”

“I think I’ll just stick to water, thank you,” Conor said, smiling as he took his seat. Luna immediately started passing platters of eggs, waffles, and bacon to the human with her magic. “Thank you, Luna.” He smiled.

“I’ll go with orange juice. Haven’t had that in a while,” Shawn replied before pausing. “If at all,” he finished, pulling a chair out for himself.

Celestia smiled as the wait staff left to get the drinks ordered. “So, did I hear correctly? You wish to spend a week here in Canterlot?”

“Yes. Primarily to spend some time with you both,” Shawn replied, looking up to Celestia and Luna.

“You would be able to see my forge.” Luna smiled.

“Anything you both want me to do or show me is available,” he replied, giving a small grin.

“Well,” Celestia responded with a smile. “I wouldn’t mind if you help with the smooth introduction of both courts.” Still smiling into her coffee cup, she continued to speak. “It would be nice to keep them in line.”

“There is one thing that’s bugging me though, girls. I’d like to know why you didn’t tell me I looked like a certain spoiled pony when I changed.”

Luna giggled like a filly behind her hooves.

Celestia found the contents of her coffee suddenly riveting, yet she could not hide that smug smirk at the edge of her muzzle.

“... Really? Seriously? You two did it as a prank?” Conor said, his voice rising to a booming crescendo. “Do you have any idea how close I came to getting killed because of that?” Celestia spat out her coffee, coughing while Luna’s laughter stopped cold in its tracks. “Grif had me by the throat because he thought I’d been kidnapped, and when I got upset with him, my magic shoved him against the wall. Shrial was there, Celestia, and I think you can guess what happened next.”

“Surely they were smart enough to know Blueblood could never have performed that level of disguise magic.” Celestia’s eyes widened in shock. She shuffled her feathers and looked to her Sister. “It is rare that my sister and I get to be in on the same prank.”

“Yeah? Well next time, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make it so life threatening.” Conor glowered at the pair. “I appreciate a good joke as much as the next guy, but this one went too far.

“We meant you no harm,” Luna offered. “It was all in jest. We had forgotten how recent the ancient past is for Grif.”

“I’m just glad Grif got things back under control as quickly as he did.” Conor shuddered as he tentatively chewed on a piece of bacon.

Shawn hummed in agreement.

“So,” Celestia started in hopes of changing the topic. “What do you plan on doing now, Conor? Seeing as you’ll be spending some time here in Equestria, I assume you must have some plans.”

“I’m going to go back to Ponyville with Grif. I have to see about getting a name for my new form and we’re coming up empty. I wanted to see if maybe somepony else might have a good idea. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll ask Zecora. I’ve been meaning to get to know that zebra for a while anyways.”

“Yes, speaking of which, sister, when did you let Zebras fall into obscurity?” Luna asked.

“They haven’t. It’s just that Zebras aren’t that well known in the rural areas. I’ve been trying to improve the knowledge and root out superstition. It just takes time.”

“And what have you been doing?” Conor asked. “I’m curious.”

“Doing my best to stamp out the rumor that all Zebras are dark shamans who’ll curse you if you look at them the wrong way.” She sighed. “Fifty years. That is how quickly Zebras disappeared from our society. And with their disappearance, just as it was with the Thestrals, prejudices and rumors grew.”

“But how are you stamping them out?” Conor asked.

Celestia smiled. “By putting books, literature, and hoping to have a few speaking tours in the future. Knowledge and information are the best ways.”

“You do realize how few ponies actually listen to that kind of stuff, right?” Conor asked. “Even Twilight almost fell to it after the whole poison joke incident. If you’re going to disprove these myths, you’re going to have to do better. Maybe start up a Foreign exchange program or something. Then both cultures can see what the other is like and learn from them.”

“That starts at the end of the year.” Celestia responded. “We have a few explorers who have signed up.”

“Good.” Conor nodded. “I hope they’ll benefit from the experience.” With that, he dug further into his breakfast, nearly matching Luna in her pace as a competitive glint shone in her eye.





Conor let out a groan of contentment as he stood on Canterlot’s main platform. The Mane Six and a few of the others looked on in concern.

Pensword looked over to Conor with a raised eyebrow. “Did you have a good breakfast?” He asked, chuckling. “I am guessing you got your first meal with High Chieftess Luna?”

“Eeeeeyup,” Conor said, smiling contentedly. “I don’t know where she found all that room. First we were eating, next thing I know, she’s challenging me to a contest.”

“Had fun?” Grif asked, beaming.

“I haven’t eaten like that since I served in a Samoan ward.” Conor chuckled. “I’m just glad I learned how to listen to my stomach. Otherwise, I’d be a sick mess about now.”

Pensword took on an amused look. “I so want to take you to a Thestral gathering now,” he said as he chuckled.

“You know, I think I’d like that. It’d be nice to meet your extended family,” Conor said, smiling.

“Extended family? It is an entire Clan.” Pensword spoke fondly. “Still, it is strange having clan members sharing my name.”

“Your clan is your family, Pensword,” Conor said. “That’s what I meant.”

“Well, for us, we call it a Clan.” Pensword responded with a poke of his wing and Conor realized he was being ribbed. “Still,” he paused and took on a goofy grin as his left ear twitched. He turned and saw the expression on the human’s face. His own muzzle fell a little. “Come on, Conor, I am ribbing you. You are going to be too much of a rich target for the Slayers.”

“... I can’t help it,” Conor said. “I can’t tell that kind of stuff. If it’s obvious, I’m good. Otherwise, it just goes right over my head. Well, most of the time anyways,” he amended.

“Hey! Wait for me!” A heavy clopping could be heard as the stones rumbled beneath the party’s feet. A massive black furred minotaur with a ropey red mane was charging full speed.

“Um … is that--?” Conor started.

“Big guns, the Bladefather Clan’s resident minotaur.” Grif smirked. “There is going to be a lot of mythology for you to encounter here.”

Pensword snarked as he held a hoof over his muzzle, exchanging a brief knowing looking between Grif and himself.

“Woah,” Conor said as Big Guns bounded onto the platform bearing his trusty weapons with him.

“You almost left Big Guns behind,” he frowned. “How come nopony told me we were leaving?”

“You seemed to be enjoying talking to that cow,” Grif said. “I figured we’d leave your ticket at the station and you could return later.”

Big Guns blushed. “She was just helpin’ me learn the ropes. It’s hard when you don’t know your history.”

“Yes. History.” Grif laughed.

Big guns kept silent, though his mane grew brighter as his war hammer glowed the same color.

Pensword had tuned out the conversation and anxiously awaited the train’s arrival as they directed their ears down the tracks.

“It’s good to be going home again,” the now Princess Twilight said. “I really need to get back to my Daring Do novels.”

“And I can’t wait to get back in the clouds again. Gilda and I have a lot of catching up to do. Not to mention we have to remodel my house for her,” Rainbow said as she hugged the gryphoness.

“I’m sure Angel and the others missed me terribly,” Fluttershy agreed.

“And those apples ain’t gonna buck themselves,” Apple said.

“And I’ve got--” Pinkie suddenly cut herself off as she shoved a hoof in her mouth, looking meaningfully toward Shrial and Hammer Strike.

“I’ll meet you back in Ponyville later, girls. I have a few commissions I need to take care of for Fancy Pants while I’m here.”

“You’ll be there for the shower, won’t you, Rarity?” Shrial asked.

“Of course. Why, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I have the most adorable line of baby clothes set up for the twins,” Rarity said. “Trust me, you’re going to positively adore them.”

Shrial smiled nervously. “Um, that’s … great, Rarity. I’ll um … see them when you get back.”

“You can count on it.” Rarity beamed as the train rolled into the station.

“Well, I suppose this is goodbye for now,” Kalima said as the train hissed to a stop. “We’ll be seeing you back at New Unity, Hammer Strike. Oh, and it’s good to see you back on your hooves again.” The elderly gryphoness smiled as she made her way into the train and settled onto one of the padded seats.

Hammer Strike gave a nod in response before actually saying something. “I’ll be back in New Unity in a week. Enjoy the journey back.”

“Just don’t do something stupid…. Again.” Grif sighed.

“You’re already asking for too much,” Hammer replied.

“Okay,then  please do not do anything majorly stupid alone,” Pensword answered with a hoof to his forehead.

“I’m staying in Canterlot,” Hammer Strike replied. “Again, you’re asking for too much.”

“Guys, I think Hammer Strike can handle himself. Let’s just trust him, okay?” Conor asked.

In a moment of what can only be described as cartoon logic and reactions, everything and everyone stopped, even the puffing of the engine, as dead silence stilled the skies. Everypony, and even the birds in the trees, gave Conor a pointed look.

“What?” Conor asked

Pensword sighed. “We will tell you on the train trip.” Pensword groaned and everything went back to normal.

“Well, we’ve delayed this long enough,” Grif said as they began to load onto the train. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“All aboard!” The conductor yelled as the doors shut behind the passengers. All of passengers stuck their heads out the windows and waved at the platform as the engine huffed, puffed, then slowly made its way out from the station while its whistle blew into the sky.





Princess Celestia smiled as she walked up to Hammer Strike. “I see you’re getting a little restless.” She looked around and leaned in conspiratorially. “I want to beat my sister for once. Could I persuade you to join me for a practice session?”

“Sure,” Hammer replied.

Celestia smirked. “I suggest you leave your outfit behind. I doubt even your legendary jacket would survive. I’ll meet you at your quarters. Then I can take you to the Solar Field.” 

Hammer Strike opened his mouth to reply, only to pause. Closing it again, he nodded. “I’ll ... drop these off, then.”

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

It didn’t take long for Hammer Strike to return to his room, but he couldn’t help but keep his outfit on as he sat there, thinking to himself as time fled. After a long time, he removed his overcoat. Placing it neatly on a nearby chair, he rolled his shoulders, taking a deep breath before undoing the buttons on his vest, placing it alongside his coat. Soon after, the dress shirt followed. He didn’t look in the mirror. He already knew what awaited him.

A few seconds later a knock sounded at his door. Celestia walked into the room completely bare. Her crown and torc were gone. She froze in place as her eyes took in the full effects of the Third Gryphon War. “Who did this?” She asked, shocked.

“Celestia, it’s been a thousand years since this event happened,” Hammer said. “... I never did let you see the aftermath, did I?”

“No, no you didn’t. What did I do to lose your trust?” She paused to take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly.

“You did nothing to lose my trust. In fact, you might be one of the first to see the damage. Grif couldn’t see most of it due to my own blood coating me and the cuts,” he replied as he looked at his own foreleg.

Celestia stepped forward and embraced Hammer Strike into a wing hug. “As long you’re here, I’ll give you a wing to cry on.” She spoke with kindness. “Are you ready?” She asked softly after releasing the hug.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Celestia smiled as she lowered her head and touched her horn to Hammer Strike’s head as the two teleported away from the room, leaving a heat mirage behind.

They reappeared in a bright, hot, and very sandy place as wind whipped sand particles in the two ponies’ faces before dying down. All around Hammer Strike could see nothing but sand. No dunes, no hills, no cacti or vegetation of any kind, just a flat area of sand. Occasionally he saw places that rippled like fleshly blown glass glinting in the sunlight. Celestia somberly spoke. “Welcome to the Solar Fields, a plane given as a gift in Northern Zebrica for my own purpose and use after I banished my sister .” She looked down. “Sixty feet below us is a layer of glass. Ten years into my sister’s banishment, I bathed myself in the middle of my own sun.” She looked to her teacher and father figure. “I am ashamed to say that I wished I did not live through it. That was a dark year for me.” She looked around. “I use it now and then still, just to cut loose.”

“We’re all ashamed of something we’ve done. It’s always good to have somewhere to vent, lest you do something hasty,” Hammer replied as his eyes trailed over the sand.

“Well,” she started, a small tone of playfulness creeping in. She pushed Hammer Strike forward with a wing. “Cut loose, see what you can do. Out here, you won’t have to worry about collateral damage.”

“I don’t want to let loose; I’d lose myself in the process.”

“Lose yourself?” Celestia tilted her head, “How so? You can’t hurt me, and besides, you clearly know your limits around others.”

“Mentally, I’d lose myself.”

“I lost myself here in this place. Trust me, Hammer Strike, you’re safe here.” She paused as a pensive expression overcame her. “Still, I won’t push you. You go as far and hard as you feel comfortable with.”

“I am curious how much heat I can generate ...”

Celestia spread a wing in the air about her. “That’s why I brought you here; so you can experiment. Besides, I want to test just how much heat you can withstand.”

“Should probably figure that out, yeah,” Hammer nodded. “What do you want to try first? How much I can handle or how much I can make?”

She smiled as she looked upon the sand where her teacher stood. “Let’s see how much you can make first. Then I can recharge you by seeing how much you can handle.”

Hammer Strike nodded and took a deep breath as blue fire burned over his chest. The heat steadily rose as the flames gradually spread, covering more and more of him as they expanded outward.

Celestia smiled as the heat washed over her form. She kept her eyes on Hammer Strike, unaffected by the glare and the brightness of the flames.

He focused more energy into the fire that surrounded him, pressing his gift further. He may not have remembered it well, but he knew he could do more. His fire began to level at a light shade of blue, writhing and jutting into the air above him as the heat rippled below. The sand turned a bright red.

Celestia scanned the magic and nodded indulgently as she felt the levels plateau. Her smile soon disappeared, however, as a sudden spike in output blew her mane back. Curtains of heat veiled the pony lord’s form, radiating from the sand as it slowly turned to slag.

Memories surfaced as Hammer Strike stared blankly forward. Anger soon followed as he pushed more into the fire, the hue gradually lightening, becoming brighter and brighter until the flames shone a pure white, condensing around him as he held the power.

Celestia’s eyes widened. Then she broke into a grin. “There’s the Hammer Strike I grew up with. Don’t go too long. Taper off and let’s see how the sand reacted.” Her voice was kind, exultant even, as she witnessed Hammer’s potential made manifest. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, considering how he had first taught her and now she was teaching him.

Hammer took another breath in, then exhaled violently as the fire guttered like a candle and died. The red-hot sand glowed beneath him as his hooves slowly sank into the molten mass.

“How do you feel?” Celestia asked..

He shrugged, stepping up the small incline in the hole he’d burned into the plane. Climbing back out, he shook his hooves, sending the molten glass back into the hole from whence it came just in time for it to skitter across the surface of the now concave glass bowl. “Interesting, I guess. Never needed to put that much energy into it before.”

“I can imagine. I remember that feeling when you first pushed me to increase my own solar magic.” She grinned as she stepped away. “I’ll see about transferring the glass you made for a window at New Unity.” She looked around before nodding her head. “Let me know when it gets too hot.” She spread her wings out, crouched down, and began to focus her own magic. Her horn glowed a bright yellow as it focused on the point. Then she let loose with her full solar magic, beginning at the level she’d spent at Cadence’s wedding.

Thirty minutes later, Hammer Strike was floating in a pool of the molten glass. He hummed pleasantly to himself, enjoying the warmth as it seeped into his joints. Finally, he sighed. “That’s enough,” he called out. “I can feel the heat at this point.”

Celestia slowly tapered her energy off. Soon enough the heat was simply emanating from the molten material. She hovered above the liquefied sand as the winds blew more of its unmelted counterpart into the miniature pool that she’d created. “Would you like me to teleport you out or do you want to try climbing by yourself?”

“I kinda want to keep sitting here. It’s not often you get to relax in the closest equivalent of a hot tub due to heat tolerance.”

She laughed and smiled, flapping her wings to send hot air drafts over Hammer Strike’s face as she flew out of the hole. “You have about an hour before I’ll have to pull you out. After that it’ll turn into glass.”

“Eh, it’s already cooled down too much.”

Princess Celestia frowned. “I’ll have to see what I can do to make a hot tub you can use.”





The large steam engine hissed to a halt as the royal cart shuddered, gleaming in the mid-day light. “Well, looks like we made it back home in one piece,” Conor said, smiling at his friends as he got up, stretching and groaning from his padded seat. “That was a nice nap, too.”

“Well, of course we made it in one piece,” Pensword muttered. “How you could fly in those tin tubes is beyond me.” He shivered a little. “A good airship or train,” He spread his wings to look at them. “Or these is all you should need.” He looked back at the train car as he stepped off onto the platform. “Ah, good old Ponyville.”

“Pensword, for us humans, an airplane is the only way we can fly. You know how many people love the skies once they get up there. I’d take an airplane any day of the week. At least until we figure out a way to make it so I can fly by my own power,” Conor said, winking mischievously as he followed the commander. “But I doubt that’s going to be happening any time soon.”

“Wait a minute,” Thalia stopped dead and turned to Pensword. “Humans fly in metal tubes?”

“Talk to the human. That is simply what I heard,” he admitted. A worried expression crossed his face briefly before it was gone. “Grif, I need to talk to you when we get back to New Unity.”

“Well, it’s more than just a tube. The tube is only the main body. It holds the pilot and passengers for the travel, along with seats for the humans to sit in and seat belts to secure them in place. It’s something similar to the harnesses or straps you use for your armor and saddlebags. There are two massive metal wings on either side, and large spinning fans with multiple blades called turbines. They spin at high speeds together beneath these wings to give thrust and power to the craft, pushing it forward until the craft is able to jump off the ground. For a few brief seconds, the craft then has to fly under its own power, but after passing a certain point, the plane flies by basically cutting through the air, and the air beneath it props it up as the turbines propel it forward. You can travel hundreds of thousands of miles in a matter of hours provided you have enough fuel for the journey.”

“Of course, humans tend to lack the anti-pressure protection supplied by our internal magic,” Grif told Thalia. “A plane gets a single crack in it and the entire passenger hold rapidly decompresses.” He made a popping sound.

Pensword shivered at the thought. “Hu…” he paused and stopped himself from talking as he looked at Grif and Conor with concern. He swiftly turned around and immediately marched forward. Lunar Fang barely managed to catch up with him, having to gallop.

“What happened?” Was all she asked as she nuzzled his cheek warmly.

“I--I forgot what an airplane is,” he whispered. “I am forgetting little parts of human technology that I see as reckless and insane. I forgot how they work and called them flying tin tubes.” He fluffed his wings nervously.. “I--even if I have both of me up here--” he said, touching his head with a wing tip, “--The longer I have stayed as a Thestral Pegasus, the more I see the world from our viewpoint. From an Equestrian viewpoint.”

“Ah, Ponyville, sweet Ponyville,” Grif said, currently unaware of his friend’s worrying. “Every time I visit Canterlot, I love this place more.”

“We’ll talk about this at home,” Lunar Fang whispered reassuringly in Pensword’s ear .

“Thank you,” he whispered back, giving her a kiss on the the side of her muzzle and a loving nuzzle to his daughter.

“So, Conor, Zecora’s hut is on our way to New Unity, so me and you will cut off the path as we’re moving, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Conor said, smiling. “It’s going to be hilarious finding out how the town will react to me.”

“Faust help us all,” Pensword muttered at hearing Conor’s statement.  He looked to Lunar Fang and the two nodded as they took to the air now they were away from the train station.

Rainbow Dash looked at Conor, confused. “Uh, sorry to disappoint you, but three humans beat you to it already. Unless you meet the flower sisters.”

Conor chuckled knowingly. “I had a little help from Celestia and Luna at the coronation. So now I have a pony form I can shift to. Let’s just say it might set Rarity on edge if she ever saw me.”

“Why would it do something like that?” Gilda asked, folding her arms and rolling her eyes.

“It happened after you left, so you wouldn’t know about it. Just ask Rainbow about Prince Blueblood while you’re building your house. I can show you after.” Conor winked.

“You mean, um … you … look like him?” Fluttershy asked, though nopony could hear her thanks to her shyness.

“Um … I’ll just show you girls later on, okay?” Conor asked.

“Alright,” Applejack said. “Maybe next time y’all stop by Sweet Apple Acres, youl can show us.”

“Consider it done,” Conor said, smiling. “Besides, I want to be able to meet your big brother and Granny Smith, too. Oh, and by the way, Twilight, I forgot to ask. Do you think you can tutor me while Pensword’s gone? I need to keep my Equestrian up.”

Twilight smiled. “No problem. Just --”

Conor groaned. “Yes, Twilight, if you really want to, you can experiment with me, alright? But I set the limits, got it?” Twilight squealed in delight. “... I’m so going to regret this,” Conor said, shaking his head as he lay it against his fingers.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Pensword replied, laughing as he remembered his own time at Twilight’s. “Just be careful. We did a few all night study sessions.” He chuckled darkly. Conor shuddered.

“Awww don’t worry, and when you’re done, I can throw a congratulations on learning Equestrian party!” Pinkie Pie cheered, blowing a party favor in Conor’s face. “Besides, I already know what you look like. I just don’t wanna spoil the surprise for the others,” she said cheerfully.

“Pinkie.” Grif snapped his talons repeatedly to get her attention. “Would it be right for you to throw this party while me and pensword are away?” Grif asked her with a serious look.

“I do agree, I would rather not miss Conor’s first Pinkie Pie Party,” Pensword responded with a laugh. “I want to see his face.”

“Okie dokie lokie,” Pinkie said, saluting to the three.

“We’ll make our way back to the city and put Shrial back in the tower,” Kalima said.

“I told you I’m not tired,” Shrial protested.

“Not now, but you will be once you lay down. Trust me, daughter, I speak from experience,” Kalima said placatingly. “Besides, Grif wants to be able to see you safe and sound when he gets home. And the babies.”

Shrial grumbled. “Fine.” She muttered some choice oaths under her breath.

“Ah, so you’ve reached that stage.” Shrial glowered at the elder gryphoness.

“Big Guns has some things to sort out anyways, so he’ll go with you,” Big Guns said.

“Sounds like we got everything figured out then,” Conor said. “Shall we get going?”

“Let’s go,” Grif said.





The two friends stood outside the zebra’s hut, having just passed through the totems that had been set up. Conor shuddered briefly as they walked through before they approached the ancient-looking crooked tree with its giant tribal mask mounted above. He knocked heavily on the circular door as he peered through the holes the ancient roots made and the various pieces of pottery clinked together in the gentle breeze.

“You’re sure she’s okay with us just stopping by, right?” Conor asked.

“She knows I wouldn’t bother her if it wasn’t important,” Grif said.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal the golden gleam of the Zebra’s neck and leg rings as her jutting mane stood out in the shadows. “Yes?” she asked. “Who could it be? Is this a human with Grif I see?”

“Hi, I’m Conor. We didn’t really get the chance to meet each other properly last time I was here with the whole corruption incident,” Conor said, chuckling nervously. Zecora peered at the human, then at Grif.

“And why have you come to my humble home? Do you seek for advice, or were you out on a roam?”

“I need poison,” Grif said. “Something preferably more lethal to gryphons than ponies. You have any of those incredibly powerful remedies lying around?”

Zecora looked at Grif speculatively. “And what is the reason you have need of this poison?” she asked.

“Pensword and I are going to have to travel into Gryphelheim,” Grif told her. “Lives are in danger and, as I’m sure you’re aware, we’re not the most popular people there.”

“I do not deal in death and decay, but I might just have another way,” Zecora said. She crept back to a far shelf in her hut, the two friends following behind. Conor looked in awe at the spices and smells, as well as the variety of jars, ingredients, and other mystical objects the zebra kept in the space. Meanwhile, Zecora used her staff to balance a bright yellow vase with a thin neck and clay stopper, carefully lowering it before putting it on her table. “When a single drop to your blades is applied, the enemies cut will be paralyzed.”

“Thank you, Zecora.” Grif smiled, placing a small bag on the table. Conor realized he didn’t hear the clink of gold. “I found those dehydrated algae from the dried east in Canterlot. I hope that it’s an even trade?” Grif asked.

“Zecora smiled that wise smile of hers. “For a friend like you, it will suffice. You needed only ask, I would give you no price.”

“Consider it payment for what he needs then,” Grif said.

“And what could it be that this young one needs when he has accomplished such noble deeds?” the Zebra asked as she turned her attention to the human. Conor blushed.

“Well, um … it’s kind of silly,” he said.

“You realize how much I get that from local ponies?” she chuckled. “Silly is my specialty.”

Conor chuckled. “I guess you’re right, living next to Ponyville. Crazy stuff must happen to you all the time.” Zecora nodded. “Well, okay,” Conor said, fingering his arm band nervously. “I need some help deciding on a name for a unicorn.”

“A newborn?” Zecora asked.

“In a sense,” Conor said. Zecora stared him down and he sighed. “It’s probably better if I just show you.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and twisted the diamond. In a flash of light, the Blueblood doppelganger stood before her. “Surprise?” he asked, chuckling nervously.

Zecora’s eyes widened, but that was the only sign of surprise she gave. She paced around the unicorn, poking and prodding at various points, examining his mane, and at last carefully scrutinizing his cutie mark. Then she retreated, turning to look out a window.

“It seems I may yet have some use for that moss. Hand it here. Come, give it a toss.” Grif immediately did as instructed, throwing the bag over the cauldron as Zecora caught it in her teeth. She pried the tie open before reaching in and pulling some of the dried substance out. Carefully, she approached the cauldron before crushing the moss between her hooves and letting it sift down in powdery form.

The room suddenly darkened as the sound of drums filled the air. A draft blew through the hut, jingling the various wooden wind chimes and other items hanging from the roof. She proceeded to speak in her native tongue with a mixture of high pitched barks and brays that blended together in an almost musical medley with the drums as she danced around the pot. The cauldron bubbled, then it seethed, and finally it spat out a great green mist into the air. A shrill whinny echoed through the room as images flickered in rapid succession across the mist. At last, Zecora stamped with a thunderous clop on the floor and the drum beats stopped. The mist dissipated as quickly as it had been produced, and all was as it had been before. She slumped her shoulders as she used her cane for a prop, huffing tiredly. A haunted look shone only briefly in her eyes before they returned to their neutral state.

“For saving the life of your human friend when all for him should have come to an end, the spirits swear on your cutie mark. The name for this form is Vital Spark.”

The unicorn’s cutie mark glowed briefly at the mention of the name. “Vital Spark, huh?” he asked. Then he smiled. “I think I like it. Thanks, Zecora. And thank you everypony else,” he said, addressing the empty room.

“As always, Zecora, thanks for your help.” Grif bowed his head to the zebra.

“Thank me later, Grif Grafson. After your trials are said and done.” Then she turned to face the newly dubbed Vital Spark. “... You hear them?” she asked, her tone surprised. Vital Spark shook his head.

“I feel them. At least I think I do. I just wanted to be on the safe side and say, well,  thank you,” Conor said.

Zecora chuckled, then broke into a full throated laugh as mirthful tears formed on the edges of her eyes. “Not bad, young colt, but give it some time. Perhaps I can teach you the art of the rhyme.”

“Perhaps,” Vital Spark said, smirking. “But let’s wait till next time. And who says you’ll be the one to teach me? Nobody knows. We yet shall see.” He chuckled as he slowly and carefully made his way out the hut and down the steps. Grif followed closely behind, acting as a prop to keep him steady as he got used to using four hooves. As the door closed behind them, Zecora let the tears fall freely.

“So this is when it all began.” She chuckled. “I have no choice, do I?” she asked as the winds blew gently around her. The chimes sounded again as the various tribal masks’ eyes glowed green She sighed heavily and nodded. “I will keep my promise. I will stick to the plan.”





Hammer Strike rolled his shoulders as he put on his coat. He thankfully stopped himself in the middle of reaching for his greatsword. “Dinner with Rarity,” he reminded himself as he moved over to the right, grabbing just a shortsword and a dagger.

He briefly checked the clock in his room, noting the time at around three forty-five. With a nod to himself he exited his room, heading in the direction of Rarity’s quarters.

Rarity smiled as she removed the curls from her hair, giving it an affectionate toss in the mirror as it sparkled and shone from the recent washing. She brought her hooves up for careful inspection as she levitated a cloth, rubbing it over the appendages until they shone like Pinkie’s did when Celestia first brought Discord in statue form. Lastly, she applied a layer of mascara and immediately followed it with her favorite layer of light blue eyeshadow. Lastly, she used a small makeup pencil to apply the eyeliner to make her eye color pop. Having finished her preparations, she twirled once more in front of the mirror, laughing. “Rarity, you sly minx, it may have taken most of the night and a killer makeover afterwards, but it was absolutely worth it.”

She turned to the mannequin behind her where her newest creation sat waiting. Made from a light cyan blue satin, it shimmered in the afternoon light streaming through the window. A silver trim along the hem of the dress set it off nicely with silver star accents glinting along the body of the dress at various points. A sapphire-encrusted bow was mounted at the waistline of the dress while the bottom cascaded down like a waterfall, accented by white lace trimming and miniscule diamonds designed to take the appearance of dew. Her old tiara from the gala sat on a lace pillow nearby, its gold freshly polished with its three points. Beneath each of these points, a pair of amethysts were mounted on the sides, while a star sapphire stood out boldly in place of the ruby that once had been mounted at the forepoint. “Hammer Strike is going to be positively speechless at this masterpiece.” She giggled with delight. “Oh, I can hardly wait,” she said as she levitated a pair of celestine mounted earings over and put them on, admiring herself in the mirror.

Hammer Strike turned down yet another corridor as he continued on his path to Rarity’s room. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a pocket watch to figure out the time. Five minutes to go. A little too early, so he slowed his pace. He arrived at Rarity’s door just in time. keeping in mind how strong a knock he’d used last time, he did his best to reduce the strain and knocked as gently as he could without breaking the door down or bursting through the wood.

“Just a minute,” Rarity’s voice sang through the door. Hammer Strike could hear her magic briefly before it cut off suddenly. The door creaked open, and there was Rarity in all her bedazzling glory. “Good evening, Hammer Strike,” she said.

“Good evening, Rarity,” Hammer said, his eyes looking over her dress. “You look astonishing.”

She giggled. “Why, thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” she said as she stepped out of her quarters, carefully observing the details. “I love the cravat,” she said, bringing the full force of her lashes to bear. “And where were you planning on taking us tonight?”

“Clover Fields. I’ve heard plenty of good things,” he replied to her as the pair made their way out of the castle.

“You got a reservation in Clover Fields?” Rarity gasped. “Why, their reservations need to be booked months in advance. How in the wide world of Equestria did you do it?”

“Didn’t seem that difficult,” he replied with a slight hum.

“... You bought the establishment, didn’t you?”

“Technically I didn’t buy it. I gave Blast and Tower Shield a bit of control over my funds, primarily to spend, and they thought I meant to expand my revenue.”

“Well, at least that must have put somewhat of a dent in your accounts, right?”

“I would say yes, but after a visit to the bank, I learned otherwise.”

“After all the philanthropy you still haven’t lost any? You’re going to have to teach me some of your business tactics,” She said as she drew closer to him, hitting the pony lord with the full effect of her devastating eyelashes as the pair walked down the lane together. Several noble ladies and gentlecolts were eying the pair speculatively as Hammer Strike and Rarity approached the establishment in question.

“Another time. For now, we have a reservation to get to.”

“Too true. I hear their mandarin salad is to die for.”

“Let’s get to it then, shall we?” Hammer Strike said as he opened the door and took a step off to the side, holding it open. “After you.”

“Why, thank you, Sir,” Rarity said as she entered, giving a warm smile to the gentlecolt as she did her best not to let her knees buckle beneath her. Hammer Strike just smiled as he followed after.





Pensword settled into his office, which, at the moment, was little better than a storage room. He didn’t mind the room size; he would get a better office set when the barracks were finally complete. He looked over to Lunar Fang and then to the door. He was waiting for one more before he could start the meeting.

Grif stepped in a few minutes later. “Sorry about the wait,” he said.

“Not a problem,” Pensword responded, he smiled briefly before sighing and his shoulders slumped. “Grif, Lunar Fang… I am forgetting about humanity,” he admitted bluntly. “The airplane is just the most recent incident.” The books and other items he’d brought with him from home were now spread across his makeshift desk.. He pointed a wing to his phone. “Wireless Vocal Telegraph is what I called my phone a week ago. What am I to do? I know my documents, but I am having trouble thinking of my family without giving them pony features.” He shivered and ruffled his feathers. “... I’m scared.”

Grif and lunar fang moved over and hugged Pensword together gently. “It’ll be okay, dear.” Lunar fang smiled. “Good use of contractions, by the way.”

“We’ll find a way to fix this, Matthew,” Grif said.

“I sure hope so, or I am going to be an Equestrian on Earth, not a human returning home for a visit.” He looked at Grif. “What am I to do? I am forgetting how technology works. Conor actually explained how an airplane worked, and I could have done that when we first arrived, but now ...  now I see them as impractical and dangerous. I want to upgrade Earth’s entire flight system.”

“They are impractical and dangerous.” Grif laughed. “You realise that most of human technology is standing on the blade of a knife? We run our vehicles using explosions, Matthew. Explosions! Don’t worry. I know we’ll figure out a way to restore your human form before you forget too much.”

“The only thing not riding the edge of a knife are the ships, and look at the size of those vessels. I remember ships the size of small cities.” He shook his head. “The explosions are good to at least put us into Luna’s domain.” He laughed at that. “I wonder if Luna would adopt astronauts as knights in her court. Honorary, of course.” Pensword chuckled. “Still,” he added, “How are you remembering the technology? The names?” He slumped more. “Faust, I wish I remembered what cannons were. I could have used them in the Third Gryphon war. Yet when I did remember what they were, there were no resources or time to invest into finding the right mixture of metals to create a non lethal cannon barrel.”

“And then we might have returned to a pony regime not unlike a certain historical figure.” Grif looked at pensword coldly. “Some technology cannot be introduced early.”

“I know,” Pensword growled. “Does not mean I have to like the choice.” He looked to the wall where the flag of Mountainside Falls hung with pride. “I need to hunt for the lost emblems of the other towns eaten by the Gryphons.” The Thestral Pegasus hybrid turned to looked Grif in the eyes, actually standing on his desk to do so as books and other materials skittered to the floor. “Could I get away with placing those emblems on the Thestrals I bring with me?” 

“Why not?” Grif asked him. “Push your limits. It’s the only way you’ll learn what they are”

“Good. Then the Gryphons will know who I am.” He grinned as he stepped off his desk. “I better get some soapbox to stand on for when Gryphons come to meet me,” he muttered to himself. He paused to peck his wife on the side of the muzzle. “Sadly, I do not have the time for that research. I may just have to use the Mountainside Falls emblem.” He walked around to his desk and pulled out medallions. Attached to metal chains, a disk portraying a mountain range with five peaks stood out in the light. A waterfall was etched flowing down from the middle peak. On one side of the falls, the cutie mark of the long dead Baron Happy Hooves was proudly engraved:  a pair of horseshoes forming the shape of a heart. On the other side of the falls, the old town hall stood resolute and defiant. “I had these stamped in Canterlot during the week. What do you think?” Grif noticed one other emblem, the medallion of Commandant for Fort Triumph.

“Very nice.” Grif nodded. “I have my squad assembling at the gates in twenty minutes, so I’m going to do my last minute prep.”

“I understand. I shall have my troops and Cosy ready in thirty minutes. We have to pack our real armor and wear the now outdated Lunar Armor like you wanted,” he answered as he looked to Lunar Fang with a sad smile. “I love you, dear,” he said, kissing her full on the muzzle.

Lunar Fang smiled and looked at Grif and Pensword. “I’ll leave you two war heroes to do any last minute planning. Wouldn’t want any leaks to get out, now would we?” She smirked and kissed her husband one more time, drawing away slowly. She smiled at him before turning around and giving Grif a Thestral salute. As she made her way to the door, she turned around one last time as she fixed her gaze on Pensword.

“Just hurry back,” she told him. “And don’t die.”

“I shall try not to die,” Pensword few to her and took the mare’s head in a forehoof, drawing her  muzzle to muzzle. “Know this. If I do, you have my full authority to take revenge upon any of the Gryphons that killed me and not to stop till you stand in front of the doors of Gryphelheim itself.” Lunar Fang nodded, tears in her eyes as she broke the contact and marched away. If she were to turn back now, she didn’t know if she would have the strength to let him go. Pensword slowly dropped his forehoof as the door closed with the sound of finality.





“I don’t know how you guys do it,” Vital Spark said as he flopped into a giant chair in the council chamber. I must’ve had everypony in Ponyville bowing and cowtowing at me.” He shuddered then sighed. “I wish Rarity were here.”

“That is because you look like Blueblood. If you do not want that, stay human.” Pensword responded as he inspected his gear on the floor while simultaneously helping Cosy with his.

“I can’t. Not till I’m used to walking around in this form anyways. I um … still feel uncomfortable with the whole naked thing.”

“You could get a manecut,” Grif offered.

“... I guess I could,” Conor said dubiously. “I’m just worried Blueblood’s going to pin me down and try to insult me for ‘trying to impersonate him.’” Vital said, raising his hooves and bending them to form air quotations. “Huh … not the same impact as with fingers, is it?”

“Why? You have a different cutie mark. If anything, he might be flattered at setting a trend for manes and coat colors.” Pensword snorted. “You also have the right coat color in some upper crust:  pure white, like Celestia.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for those flower sisters.” Vital Spark groaned. “Instead of ‘oh, the horror,’ I got giddy fangirl squeals. It’s bad enough trying to get used to walking around naked without having every single pony examining my flank to make sure I’m telling the truth.”

“Well, at least now everypony knows though, right?” Cosy asked.

“True. But I don’t think Diamond Tiara’s convinced. She’s been tailing me all day.”

Pensword looked to his friend. “I think that is better than them going after the CMC. Do you agree or disagree with that assessment?” He sighed and looked at the ground. “Sorry for my actions earlier. I’m just ... worried about some things, and I let it cloud my sight for the moment.”

“Apology accepted. I’m going to have to see if I can’t get some help from Twilight learning how to use magic now, though. I don’t want to risk having another emotional outburst hurting somepony,” Vital said.

“Please. I took harder hits than that.” Grif laughed. “There was this one guy with a warhammer, now he hit hard.”

“I thought that was Hammer Strike with the minotaurs,” Vital said.

“I never said it was a minotaur.” Grif chuckled again. “Remember, I fought behind enemy lines during the war.”

“And Shrial’s still mad at you for putting yourself in danger, isn’t she?” Vital asked.

“That was a different time. I was a warrior; we both were. As for now? I’m not even remotely worried. The old ways were much more brutal and as far as it’s known, I’m the last warrior of the old ways alive.”

“And you’ve carried them out with honor.” Vital nodded sagely. “So tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” he asked. “You three head off for the coast, and I go back to Canterlot for a few days.” He casually took a foal’s book from his saddlebag and flipped it open to the first page.

“I remember that book. Twilight had me read it back when I was learning.” Pensword laughed. “Still, you stay safe in Canterlot.” He took a deep breath. “I have it worst, I think. I get to travel to the heart of my enemy.”

“Just remember not all gryphons are bad. The emperor likes Grif and the Crystal Empire, right? Just keep that temper of yours in check and everything will be fine,” Vital said as he traced a hoof over a line. “... so baby sunshine made her way up the mountain to the wishing pool …” he muttered.

“Just because the emperor likes me doesn’t mean the kings do,” Grif said. “Until we’re in Gryphelheim, nothing is certain. Nothing is certain even inside the city. Here’s hoping we can get sanctuary in the monastery during our stay.”

“Conor.” Pensword stared the Unicorn down, his expression bleak. “I am a Demon to them. I took the gems of their military from them. I read that when they learned I was dead, they Celebrated for three days that I would no more walk the earth and breathe the air they breathed.”

“All the more reason for them not to mess with you. They already tried to kill you and you beat each and every one of their assassins no problem. Sure, it’ll be dangerous. Something bad’ll probably happen and you’ll get stuck right in the middle of things, but you’ll come out of it alright, I’m certain of it.” Vital smiled.

Pensword gave Conor a strange look. “Which is why I am putting my guard down, and I plan to arrive on a posture of power and authority.” He looked down at Cosy. “Plus, I will protect the Prince of the Crystal Empire with my life if need be.”

“It’s not gonna come down to that,” Cosy said, pouting. “Don’t talk like that! That’s an order from the prince. No pessa--um … no worrywarts!” he said, clacking a hoof against the stone floor for emphasis.

“Please keep in mind, my young prince,” Grif said, looking at Bellacosa, “that you are prince of the crystal ponies. My gryphons will see to your safety to their better judgement and my orders before your own. Your life is the most important thing on this trip.”

“Cosy.” Pensword started with a loving tone of voice. “I have faced Gryphons before, but I also know as a Commander just what is important to the mission. I have no plans to die, but I also have no illusions that this is going to be a cakewalk. I prepare for the worst so I can react accordingly. Plan for the worst, hope for the best.”

“You’re still not gonna die,” Cosy said stubbornly as he aggressively polished his breastplate.

“Agreed,” Pensword said, placing a wing over Cosy’s head. “I plan to return to my daughter alive and make sure that I can teach thee to be a Commander.”

“You’d better,” Vital Spark said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to get Hammer Strike to pull you back.”

Pensword sighed. “I will do what I can, but if Faust calls me, I shall heed that call.” He kneeled next to Cosy. “But I will do what I can to make sure you come home safely.” He looked at his armor, his face grim in its distorted reflection. “I still have wounds and scars unhealed concerning the Gryphons.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by his holiness,” Vital said.

“It also takes time,” Pensword responded. “I am better than at the end of the war, but I am still learning to forgive. Ask Grif what I have almost done to some of the Gryphons who snuck up behind me recently.”

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” Grif reminded both of them. “That’s the best we can do. Now, to other matters. Vital, please inform Conor that Rook will be taking extra special care of his training while I am away,” Grif instructed, casually gesturing to the young crystal prince. “I expect him to keep to it while we’re away.”

“Don’t worry, he already knows. He’s actually looking forward to the improvements he’ll be making while you’re away. Though he did mention something about wanting to practice with a bow and arrow.”

“Just remind him no matter what they say, don’t try a gryphon’s bow. They’re just making fun of him,” Grif said.

“I’ll make sure to let him know, assuming I don’t get too engrossed in this storybook here,” Vital said, smirking.

“Oh, right. Grif, should I bring that modified bow with me?” Pensword asked. “You’re the Smee on Gryphons at the moment.”

“Have you gotten a good handle on it?” Grif asked. “Don’t bring any weapon you can’t use.”

“Well, not as good as I was in human form, but I am trying to stay sharp. I was hoping to practice on the ship while in transit so I do not lose flexibility.”

“Great. I just have one question:  why are you naming Grif after a character from a storybook in the humans’ world?” Vital asked.

Pensword stared blankly at Vital for a good five seconds before he dropped his head and chuckled. “Smee. It stands for Subject Matter Expert. Smee for short.”

“Oh. Now I get it,” Vital said. “You guys use a lot of military jargon, don’t you?”

Pensword cut off the chuckles. “Well, of course. You think I would use medical jargon while leading troops?”

“... Point taken,” Vital said, blushing as he returned to his book once more.